I 0 WILLIAMS. If f PSSPIi rclware, &c. ,i r , Im»u,c t»k«i ii» of tin-U«rdw»rr i,j „ u .( v.„ rtJ>»rr no» uili, anvil, jin; m MMiCMkn Aoa- l»,-JWW«. ChlooU. ’n.a'BP Tr I'iiOi*. ilil.CM. LotJiS. MM, Ikd Ac, »U of which iu-*r r /<■...ij*Mr it mu*. jluir M.'.i'i.'- in tl»'- lUfdmwe Him *r» it am! -x-tmiM sb*ir *:o *. pAinf-. Carbon lb*ir dll iUw *nklea*i* »oiall «d -•hi ji«r» titsuuf ' )VE 13, U SI NESS, ki> .S,ar*i :,i' fr-on which ♦ay vi v;’ 4i 'irr.< I*-* 10 llieir £**acy. D SHEET IKON WARE, . WILLOW-WARE .; r .{-plv.aj.ii %rill malw^bord* tm v i-Ti r;«»< - *. - :4- sit?» j»r K(>. AND it -sil e rn U:> l>f-l »1v If. •rtf ; rtnd OoO^)8. *iv\V tl v-oiiiG i i*j»fCtlully in .-»* A-r-. u» un-\ kunouiidiuß com*- jvtcSVd ft ;-ci> ih- Ka»", where h# be* «CK ;f XD WINTER GOODS, ; V ; O.te vi 5 . caV sarpvaed ifi ;i*.iry, * iln- st-'CR i- m;»ch larger IIiAQ .jaih* «3i •WJ- ct. in tnene exciting i V i-«jr i:> , - where thejr cao get «?.ls and at the Lowest Prices, h- >'2;} nri*i w»U sell a* D-w. If hot • ;»e in tl*place He wisbe* i- h:.» -; k k - jnurhuiag elsewhere. ij-;a {;•_ caji DjTvr i?Khirrnicnt» which will t; II;* fhx'fc-C-iO-ift*! of ilESf* UOUUS of even* description, I>*YS* WINTER WEAR. ,■* AND MISSES’ DRESS SHOES. AM' ROYS' BOOTS ANL* SIIOESV MEN S U-.LF Ho3* S A*»D MISSES’ WOOL HOSE. .O AND UNBLEACHED MUSLIN, ONtiimiS AND HEAVY DRILLINGS. ..UesSewm, Heeled Booteci at $1.30(^1.75' ;... . ... 2,75?5g*3.30 .iiRTS. •«. an oueuies. .-■wh S-u.tr. Lie G-fi'-*-*. S.vrojx, Tea*. Ac.*' ke;-t in a Prv Genets Store, J. A. SFKANKLE. LY' DYE COLORS c-nsed Ot:v«j*cr Kiib. 1863. *ar?r Grtm* .i'j'd C {’>. r a* niRTJy pc«da a-H wt«tild oU>* !!»•»: iWit t'um YurinQ* shade* qu m ' r*> *Th»* |U slrtU'le «od h |>erft*rt (*acce*e. Directfoot in i »-L* v p. and x perfrct tl r d’-r- >r- l*-*t *tiajjt»x{ V» dye uT«r otb i-nirhaw Uoar* £ Ste in'viu* xu-! Coloriojc. Jkiit bjr mail om -bf cmt* ilani;fxrtnrxj l-y UOWK i STfcVEXS, •h 'w •71 *: <1 u 2->> DBO£t.WAT., Borrov ;rcj*n aiid ir^D^nUlT. TOVES, r SI ILEX-IKON WAKE. :.«SEK.SIG.NED WOULD BK -1!;V U.ui t t«rcfl- J! 1 a r I. * r. pritf-i. U'£T-ll7oy. WAI7Z. ia great rartety, r vO & SPOUTING ir - ra r<-^p.• r-t'Tu: t Mnjr r>v*:n to hb ! ■ ” l *' r ;Q L«nd md assortment of coj» ire. . tn. fcTK.'HEN WIXTEES. 11 and Sheet Iron Ware. >TJTINCt. &c. WOULD ■* rot cfc* cit'wne of Ic-.-kfwpecan-ta&tlv ' torkT- Oj&et gMdnHft fc . iukJ sis?**, tosnit-tb? hr will fell at low «a rmui- • bnc-ia iwjre of Tin imd SJtetS* il ‘? ??*ll fcntlcl«a fvr colitiarjparpofe*— i’ipe: OirScHU. crw-kirs just receiv'd «A#S«r v PKITCHKTS CREAM CHEESE AT •’ istrcHsTS. bL» CAiiJ'ETING AJfb h*>, f.»no3 a ' LAPOnKAIP*. •S NK W stoke; corner »-? V>nrie>« Ft«. - i ye? msj m? McCIUJM & DERN. vo u y ■[ J-’ aLTOOJ'O tkiblnk. , . . - B.C. D£RX. y a 4 ,x, r »0f»tu»««. ~m ,p»TiW- invariably iu. »\ W , J j,£m .)iV?;.ntiua->5 M «••• '‘XJ»r»tion of the time ..r Ai*Txr.Tisixtv 1 in^.riioif ' ■-* 25 f 37U » 50 f ■«' »<* * jr. 75 100 i!D >!»»"■ If a “* 100 150 1 200 *•' w 1 I 2 00 2 60 tb«~ monlta, 35«du for each iu*rtion. G month* 6 month*. 1 year. t s ; i J 3 00 $ 5.00 - 4 oo : oo o 00 10 oo S 00 12 00 10 00 14 00 14 00 20 00 as oo 40 oo ... 175 .ifjr-t or less ■jn-‘ >-iuare . .. -4 <*■ ..... & 00 . »UX) S . • : ” : OT to 4wdii*i ~-'?™'-J V; ~cUt Ids constancy, a- directed. Ka:K .VyAi hali-.-t .V-Ae Tin- busies blow ihii battk-eall. c;)fh St-li'-Cltt band .alii thrnnsh it, serried column form.-. Vl for G.hl and native land lir ne n-.?n an- man-bin? by niv -ids ■r~ rli.-ating glad and free 11 haaiie amid «bi- oriiliant .•oont' J e rar to thee i,.irsemen to and iro— -1 drams will! wild and thunderous rolf— r. -iahis Ktni sounds—al! things that lend i ■ bind:-.- valor in the soul: ail are here—hut in the maze ■jnadron? moved ivi:h :urkm? clee it- to i.-verv Vir.v vre mruse - to thee F’.-i• deep itouais smite the trembling air, M.uii throb proclaims the foeman near. Ana taintiv echoed from the from, 1 hear mv g-tUaty oo|nrad»' cheer. • While, joy of heroes marching on ! trough blood. their'glorious lend to free! . to freedom here my life— Hu: ali nty thoughts to ti.ee! And vet, beloved, I must no; think A’ re,' undreamed 'vote may soon be thine li would unman me in the work i »•' guarding well our country's shrine litre on this sword I write mv truth ; T'.eje words-shall vet thy solace be, ibet'll tell how in this last fierce hetir 1 gave my thoughts' to thee. Along the east the holy morn lb-news life’s many cares and jc-ys. Tr.i- hoar I hope some wish for me To. pure and tenderipmyer employs. 1 .\n-tber iieauteous oaten of light IV.-S ak- n.:iv iievr-r -eu : . n .iiid'niaimed, \ 15.’1T -.-Virn (jyin r I ' : ?1] 'vosiW i .\Tr\ i'icn in coining ye;irs that roll, V. :wn oi peace and brightness throng, A::.i round encii happy :hour is twined I wreaths of friendship, love, and song : Un :s» hi> grave whose bean was thine. And by that spot a mourner be— <>n-* t»*ar for him thy loved and lost, \V : i >.e last thought clung to thee ! s ; tlut IpstHlang. THE AMATETJE BOATMAIT; HOW I WON MY BET. M v thoughts were just then tuMed upon a Wt I had made, and which had hap rather oddly. It was between six ,ol iii— Ned Darwell, Wood, Lucas, and on.- ot his cousins, Andrews, and mjself. And lie who shook hands first with a cer tain young lady was to win the stakes, called roy attention to her as we were walking in the Hose. Gardens, listening to the music. "By Jove !” he said, nipping my arm, | there’s a jolly-girl." She had very dark hair and eyes, which were rendered the more attractive, by a bewitching, little mauve hat, 1 with a white veil 1 ied behindin a bow. She was rather tall and slight, but very graceful ; and her little feet as they, peeped oat every now and then from under her muslin dress tor the grass was rather damp, and the dress had to be held up—seemed perfection. She was accompanied by an old, soldierly looking gentleman, and a young'fellow of about twenty-two or twenty-three years of age was walking by her other side. “ Who is she ?" I asked. I don't know," answered Ned. Some new importation. Hallo ! here’s Lucas ; he is sure to know. I say, Lucas, my boy, who isthat dark girl with the hat*” " Oh! hang the girl' with the rum sbaped ha; . She's Letitia Turner. Ev ery body knows her ugly phiz.” " No; the ope with the mauve hat and white veiL There, man alive, can't you see * There, just turning round at the end of the walk. Do you see her now ?" “ Don’t know her at all,” said the other. .“Do you, John? - ’ he asked, turning to his cousin. Z tli>. " Never paw her before,” said the cou sin. “ But she’s awfully swell.” Then Wood and Andrews strolled up. They asked us ; the very question we were going to ask them ; so we discovered that the young lady was a perfect stranger to us all. Whereupon Lucas undertook to rout her out, as he called it, and tell u«. " I say, Lucks.” said Ned, who was ra ther jealous of. the ascendancy Lucas had gained over us. in the honor of finding out and becoming; acquainted with different young ladies. ‘'l’ll bet you anythin'* you like that I’ll shake hands with her before you will. There, Lucas, my boy. there's a fair bet for vlou.” 10 c«o “ Done,” crjed Lucas. Then Wood chimed in— “ So will I. that I'll shake hands before either of you.” ' *■ And tljen live rest came forward, each willing fo make the same offer. So the bet w ; as made, and it was about it thaf I was thinking when old Dan. the boatman, spoko to me , •' Very strapge scenes in these Imats sometimes,” he said, nodding at me- over his oars. ‘“They say a London cabman could tell a good deal,” he continued, still nodding. “ But. bless you,-what can they see or hear ? There they sit, flogging their poor horses, while the people are behind them, shut up an a rattling, rackety tiling. They can’t hear. sir. How can they f Now we, you' see, Mr. Fred, when we come forward ' like this, we could almost kiss the people’ much there hear what they To prove his assertion, old Dau suited his action to his words, and beut over his oars, leaning forward as far as he could. Having finished his long speech, he nod ded again mysteriously, as if to say, •■'There, I have enlightened you quite enough for one day.” and then pulled on again. • As he seemed inclined to be sil.nt, aiid did not speak, my thoughts gradually re verted to our bet. Lucas had told us that, the young lady was Miss Leith, that, the old gentleman was Major Leith, and that they and Mr. Henry Leith were living at No. G Marine Gardens. i?o much infor mation he had fathered from the Clltlgaie Chronicle: but that was not an intro duction, and he ruefully said to me that he saw' no chance of getting one. All his numerous cousins had proved perfectly useless on thisoccasion. Among us Ned had been the most lucky. Miss Leith had bowed and thanked him when he picked up 5i book which she dropped upon the parade. I came second. In passing once i was honored with a second look. The rest were' nowhere: and just a week had elapsed since we made the bet. Up to the present time Miss Leith had been invincible, though we bad all done our utmost to obtain an introduction. Not that any of us cared for the stakes ; they were trifling enough; but there was a spirit pF emulation at work within us for the honor of the first shake of the hand of the young lady. The moreftlßcult it be came, the more edger we all were to win the bet. :We had tound out that nobody in the town knew her, so we were thrown upon our own She went down to the beach every morning when it was fine, and walked upon the parade in the afternoon, but was always accompanied by either her father or the young fellow announced in the Chronicle as Mr. Henry Leith. Whether Mr. Henry Leith was her brother or her cousin, and in the latter case her lover, we could not IN out. But we put him down : for a brotKer.: We had told Dan about our bet, and he had promised to help us if he could. That, perhaps, wai the chief reason why I seized the opportunity of having him to myself for an hour. “ Seen Miss Leith, Dan ?" The. old fellow-shook his head. “ I heard she was fond of pulling, though," he said, after a short time. "Oh I indeed," I answered, as a thought struck me. 1 “ I say, Dan, I shall want your boat for two or three hours a day for the next week or so." Dan had been in the habit of lending me his boat, because he knew that I could pull and manage it properly. I did not anticipate any trouble in getting it, so I was surprised iyhen he appeared to hesi tate. ; “ What are you going *o do with it, sir, . may I ask ?” j ” Never you mind, Dan. You lend me ’ the boat. What I do with it is nothing i to you : that is, as long as I don’t damage it.” 1 “ You are right, sir. You shall have it.” He smiled as he spoke, and I could easily see that, he guessed for what pur pose I wanted the boat. However, he said nothing Jill the hour was up. Then, as I was getting out, he railed me by niy name, and said, rn a low tone — ALTOONA, PA.. SATURDAY. OCTOBER 22, 1864. “I have known you now for a long lime, Mr. Fred. Do mind what yon are about, sir. Young women are changeable creatures. I should not like you to Tte taken in.” His voice was so sad. and his old bronzed face looked so troubled; that I knew he was speaking from experience—perhaps from some bitter lesson he Lad learned in blsyouth, and which in some way accounted for the odd name.of bis tfoat. Come, old Cato,” Isaid, ‘‘it is only to win the bet. lam not in love with the young lady, tayc you to-morrow. Ta ta." ' ' The next morning, according to 1 our agreement, Dan brought: the boat around to : the part of the beach hearest to my house. I did not live in the town, hut some ten minutes’ walk from it, along the cliff: and there was a path from the house down to the beach. He found me there, dressed in an old boating suit, with my face hid as much as possible by a large slouching hat. I was then twenty-four, but looked a little older; and I meant in this disguise to lay siege: to Miss Leith. “Be careful, Mr. Fred.” were the only words he said as we exchanged places. Then I pulled leisurely to where the visitors generally resorted. How ell this would help me to obtain an introduction I was not clear: but I was. to.tell the truth, jealous of her having spoken to Ned: and I thought that, at any rate, I should be able, in my capacity of boatman, to get a word from her. 1 had also a hazy idea that I might pos-ibly giveher band a little shake as 1 helped her oht of the boat, if ever I were fortunate enough to persuade heir to come in. I thought that it would be extremely agreeable to sit opposite to her for an hour, hearing .her talk, and also al most near enough to kiss her.as Dan said, whenever I leaned forward “ Boat, this morning,-sir?” I said,as I pulled past the place where Miss Leith and her brother were sitting. “ .Not this morning, thank you." he an swered. , I had spoken a> much, like the Cliflgate boatman as I was able. • Lucas, too, bad heard me, and looked up: but did not seem to recognize either me or my voice, and that emboldened me. Then the 'ma jor came down with his Times, and Mr. Lei'h left them lor his morning bath, j, saw him plunge in and swim out to sea ; and, as I wanted to follow his example, I determined to pull home and change my clothes. “ Well, 1 will have one more try,” 1 thought,- “as I have to pass the Major. Perhaps he may like to go too.” When I came up to I him he had put down the paper, and was watching his son through a field-glass. Jliss Leith was sit ting at his feet, sketching and talking to hiru- “I am afraSfd Ha rry is going out too far, j Helen,” I heard him say. j “But he is each a |capital swimmer, j papa. Where is he now?” She then closed her sketch-book v and ■ stood by his side, looking across the sunny j water for her brother, i “There; that little- black speck is his 1 head. He is'coming back now.” j “Oh! what a way ho is out. Oh! papa,; what is the matter she said, asastrong 1 crv from Mr. Leith reached her ears. j “ Nothing, nothing. 1 he said, beckoning to me. In a minute he had scrambled into the boat, and we had left the beach. “ Pull, man ! He has got the cramp! A hundred pounds if you reach him before he sinks! Harry! Harry!” he bawled out, “ keep up. Oh ! my boy, for God’s, sake, keep up! Pull i with your left. Now you are straight. Pull both. Hard!” I have often rowed in a race, but I never pulled with such will as I did on that day. The boat was the best in Cliffgate, and it seemed to fly over the water as I put nil my‘strength and weight into each stroke. I have just a dim recollection of seeing crowds upon the beach running about, while the major stood in the stern without moving or speaking, wa'ching his sinking i son. “Oh! my God. he is down!" burst from the old gentleman as he sank back wards upon the seat and covered his face with his hands. I can remember dropping the oars and I promised to do so, and nothing more tearing off my hat and boots. As I turned was said about it during our pull, round'll saw", scarce six yards from the “Good bye," said Mr. Henry Leith, head of the boat, a hand rise, then a head when he was on the boach. “ Thegov- it was his last struggle—and then both ! ernor has had all the talk to himself to went down together. A moment after- day: but I shall see you again soon.” wards I was in (he water, catching hold “ Good bye,” said Miss Leith, with a of something large and white, and rising nod, as her brother helped her out. — with it to the surface. Flow 1 found it, I “ Good bye.” don’t know ; but I knew (hat it was the “ I wonder if she will nod and smile,” young man. I felt his arms cling to my I thought, “when she finds out who! am. neckband his weight pull me down. I I shall be certain to see her again this could swim well, and as my head rose afternoon at the bank ; but she won’t above the water, and I saw the glorious know me without this hat. I’ll risk it at bright sun, my love of earth seemed so any rate. What a jolly smile she has!” strong, and the thought of death so terri- Though I did not expect to be reepg ble, that I struggled hard to keep afloat, nized, I had, whilst dressing, sundry But my clothes were thick and impeded qualms about going; aqfcwhen the time my limbs. His arms were tightly clasped came for me to start, I was sitting in the round my neck, and his dead weight was window, still hesitating. 1 had just deci pulling, forever pulling me down. ded that I would not go, when,Ned walked Then something dark caine between me up the garden and stepped into the room, and the light, and the| old boat, with the! “Well, old fellow, you’ll be late” hg [nfDEPEKDKNT IX EVERTTHTKG.] major in it, glided past almost at arm’s length I made a clutch—a rope tea's trailing in the water —and as I caught it, and pulled myself with my burden to the side, I heard the shout from the beach, and felt the major’s band unclasping his son’s arms from my neck. “■ I’ll hold biro- You get in attheother side. Come, that’s well done,” he said, as we lifted Mr. Leith into the boat. “Notv, you row in,-and. I’ll soon bring him to.” It was nut the first time, as I afterwards learned, that the major had helped to re suscitate a half-drowned person. He knew exactly what'to do; and, under his skilful treatment, his son opened his eyes before we reached the shore. , •• 1 must dress him before I can convey him home." said the major. ■So I took them to the young man’s ba thing machine,, and then pulled away, partly to change .my clothes and partly to avoid being known. I succeeded hi the latter even better than I had hoped : for, when I met the major and his daughter on the parade in the afternoon, they did not recognize me. I had left my slouching hat at home, and ray hair and whiskers were not then plastered tci my face with water. I also found out that nobody had noticed me in the morning; so I deter mined to play on my new character as boatman. Whereupon, the hext day, assuming the old disguise, 1 went forth , again in search of fresh adventures. : “Oh! there he is. papa.” Miss Leith i said, as 1 passed. “Ah!■ so he is. Here, my man, we will go for a pull to-da)’. How arc you ! this morning ? Caught no cold yesterday, 1 1 hope ?" ' “JJy.Jovc! I don’t know how to thank , you,” said Mr. Henry Leith, shaking my | hand as soon as he was in the boat. ; “ But I want to have a jaw with you j some time.” ... » : Then the tnajor, muttering some thanks, i heW-out his hand ; and Misa Leith gave : me her brightest smile, which I prized more than all. “ How strange, papa,” she said, reading \ the name of the boat. " You know Miss • Hemery told us to have this one before we ! came.” ] ; “ Bless me, yes. I have heard a great j j deal about you, Mr. Baker fold Dan). 11 ! iieard that you were very sober, and very j respectable, and all that sort of thing. It i ■ seems to me, too.Hhat you were not always j I a boatman,” he said, glancing at my I hands, which were rather whiter than the j j flippers of the sons of Neptune generally ' I are. “So, if you like to give up this sort i of life, why I’ll take care that you always j have a snug roof over your head.” j I thanked him very much but I told him that I liked iny life very well. In fact, I was fairly stumped as to what to say. I felt half inclined to laugh at be ing taken ipr old Dan ; and yet 1 felt that the major ought not to be allowed to con- I tinue in his mistake.' “ You seem rather young to be such a hermit. Come, you must marry. 1 will ; find you a wife, and keep her well, too.” “ Yes, you must forget the Faithless | Maid, now”’ said Miss Leith, smiling i again. I suppose she bad heard some of : the conjectures about Dan’s life. 1 “I do not mean to be inquisitive,” the i major said, “ but I cannot bear to see a I young.man like you, and one, too, who is |so superior to this sort of work, settling . down to such a life. Remember what we ’ owe to you. Will you not tell me your I trouble ?■ I may be able to help you: 1 and I swear I won’t spare money or trou i ble to make you happy.” Although, of course, I did not want any ‘ pecuniary help, his kind way in offering ‘ it, and the fatherly manner in which he ;■ put his hand upon my shoulder as I bent forwards, made me ashamed of the trick which 1 had played upon him. He must I sooner or later find it out; and I wondered I within myself, as I leaned over the oars, I looking down, with his hand upon my j shoulder, whether he would then be so j kind as now. “ I should like to see you privately to -5 morrow, sir,” I said, putting off the time i as long as 1 could. ? ■i ° . “ Very' well, then. Come in the morn ing at eleven —No. (> Marine Gardens. Ask for Major Leith.” Keep still, girl,’ said, tapping my knees with his stick. “ Don’t be so idle. Come along.” “lam not going, Ned.” “Not going! Why not? Miss Leith is sure to be there. Ah! I sea. You find it’s no good struggling against me. I respect your sense of discrimination ; but I can’t walk there without, somebody. Just come to keep my company.” So 1 took iiis arm and we strolled to gether into the Rose Gardens. “There’s that swell girl T met last night,” he said. “ Lucas will be at her side in a minute if 1 don’t look out. Ta ta.” Dropping my arm,"he saised his hat to the young lady,, and then walked off by her side just as Lucas came up- “ I don’t think Miss Leith is. here,” said Lucas to me : “ but there is Letitia Turner at the other end, looking such an awful fright.” Letitia. who was on the wrong side of thirty, honored me, when we met, with a most gracious bow. She certainly did look, as Lucas said, “an awful fright and whilst I was admiring the gorgeous ness of her “ get up,” I awkwardly trod upon the dress of a lady who was sitting down. 't I beg your pardon,” I said, turning routid and raising my hat It was Miss Leith ; and 1 saw in a mo ment,. from the .blush that colored hex cheeks, that I was recognized. It was my voice, I knew, that had betrayed me ; but I walked on till I came to the railings that hounded the gardens. , There was no gate at the side where i was, or I should have gone out; and the nearest one was exactly opposite the seat which the Leitli occupied. I ' waited for some minutes looking over the railings, s(nd then turned round.- And standing directly in front of me was Major Leith, thus entirely cutting off all means of retreat. “ How do you do, Mr. Baker ?” he said, with a grin, while I felt rather un comfortable. .. Then I stammered out something, apolo gizing for the deceit I had practised. “ I was going to tell you to-morrow,” I said ; “ but I hope, that you will not think the worse of me for it” “By my faith, sir, that I wont. I thought, this morning, that you looked a devilish gentleman-like boatman, and said so to my daughter. It is I who have to apologize for calling to you, yesterday, as 1 did : but I bad not time to look at you. I only saw a man in boatman’s clothes, and, of course, took you for one. Give me your hand,” he said, stretching put his own. and then addinjg, with a laugh, “ though, I suppose, now, you will not want me to put a roof over your head, yet i shall always be heartily glad to see you under mine. By-the-bye, as you are no longer Mr. Baker, what name do you mean to assume now . “ Astley.” “ Well, then, Mr. Astley, I hope this will be the beginning of a long friendship.” “I am sure, sir, nothing will give me greater pleasure.” ■ “It was Baker’s boat, though, you were in?” he said “ Yes —The Faithless Maid.” “Then, as I live, Baker shall have the wife and the cottage.” “I won’t answer for the wife,” I said. “ Then he shall have the cottage with out her. He shall have something. I will go and find him now. You come with me and I’ll introduce you.” “ My daughter, Mr. , I beg your pardon. I have a shocking memory for names.” “ Astley.” I suggested. “Mr. Astley,” he said, “ the amateur boatman.” At this we all laughed, and Miss Leith blushed. Then the major, with a hearty farewell, left us and went on his errand. “ 1 caught him,” he said, when he re turned. “He has consented, after a slight skirmish, to live with me, and have a place to harbor his old hulk in. We must go now, Helen. Private, to-morrow at eleven, eh, Mr. Astley? Well, 1 hope 1 shall see you soon.” “ Thank you, major. Good bye, Miss Leith.” “Good bye, Mr. Astley,” she said, put ting out her hand. , ' „ Lucas and Ned, who were wandering about, passed at that moment. They both looked—the envious wretches—-and actu ally scowled at me asl took the little hand and shook it. And so I Won our bet. ' . And besides the bet, I won also that which had caused it; for soon afterwards Miss Leith gave me her hand “ to shake,” as she herself said, •* as often as ever 1 liked.". j Seek Energy.— Self energy is the true j life of a man. To think by otfaer men’s ! thoughts is no true faith. The mind must [by its own independent exertions seek and, j so far as its native powers will enable it, ! arrive at the modes and causes of the truth ! of those propositions it receives as truths, i or substantially it will think and believe j nothing. Substantially, neither will the I propositions exist, for it, nor for them. —- I They will be nonentities i and it will Only i dream of understanding them. EDITORS AND PBOPMBTOfiS. A FJSK FICTCSJB OF Here Is a deecriptionj by a Cincinnati 5 Gazette correspondent, of Gen Sherman as he appeared on the march around Atlanta: ; , While I was.watching to-day the end lees line of troops shilling by, an officer, with a modest escort, yode up to the fence near which I Was standing, and dismounted He was rather tall and slender, and his quick movements donated, good muscle ad ded to absolute leanness, not thinness. His uniform was neither new nor old, but bordering on a hdzy mellowness of gloss, while the elbows and knees were a little accented from the continuous agitation of those joints. The face was one I should never rest upon in a crowd, simply because, to my • eye, there was nothing remarkable in it, save jho nose, which organ was high, thin, and planted with a curve as vehement as the curl of a Malay cutlass. The face and neck were rough and covered with reddish hair, the eye light in color ani mated, but, though restless and bonnding like a ball from one object to another, neither piercing nor brilliant s the mouth well closed but common ; the ears large : the hantk and feet long and thin : 1 the gait a little rolling, but firm and active. In dress and manner, there was not the slightest trace of pretension. He spoke - rapidly, and generally with an inquisitive smile. To this ensemble I must add a hat which was the reverse of dignified or dis tinguished—a simple felt again, with a round crown and drooping brim, and you have as fair a description of Gen. Sher man’s externals as I can pen. Seating himself on a slick of cord wood hard by the fence, he drew a bit of pencil from his pocket, and.’ spreading a piece of note paper on his knee, he wrote with great rapidity. Long columns of troops lined the road a few yards in his front, aud. beyond the road, massed in a series ■! ot spreading green fields, a whole division of infantry was waiting to take up the line of march, the blue ranks clear cut against the verdant background. Those who were near their general looked at him curiously, for in so vast an army the soldier sees his commander-in-chief but seldom. Page after page was fillet! by the General’s nim ble pencil and dispatched. . For a half hour I watched him, and, though I looked for and expected to find them, no sj'mptoms could 1 detect that the mind of the great leader was taxed by the infinite cares of a terribly hazardous mili tary coup de main. Apparently, it did not lie upon his mind the weight of a feather. A mail arrived. He tore open the papers and glanced over them hastily, then chat ted with some general officers near him, then rode off with characteristic sudden ness, but with fresh and smiling counte nance, filing down the road beside many thousand men, whose lives were in his keeping. &•“ Pete, what am lub ?” asked a sa ble youth of bis companion, a perfect African Plato. " And you don’t know' nuffin’ ’bout him?” “ No, uncle Pete.” “ Why, your education is - dreadfully imperfect. Don’t you feel him in your bussum, to be sure 7 ” The other inserted his hand beneath his waist-coat. “ No, I don’t uncle- Pete.” 11 Ignorant nigger! It am a strong pashum which rends de soul so severely dat even time itself can’t heal it” “ Den, uncle Pete, I know who be in lab.” “ Who am it V' “ Dis ole boot of mine. Its soul am rent so sewerty, dat Jphnsing, de adder, utterly refused to mend him ; and he say dat he is so bad dat de debble hisself could’nt heel ’im.’’ countryman passing along one of the streets of Baltimore with bis wagon a few days since, when one of his wheels came off, and he discovered that' a linch pin was gone. . After searching lor it some time, he offered to the boys who congregated a shilling to find it. They.then Joined in the search, and in a few minutes one of them brought him what he supposed to be the pin. Having adjusted the wheel, he started off but bad not gone more titan half a square before a wheel on the other side came off, when he discovered that the young rascals had stolen the pin from one of the other wheels to obtain the reward. lf you wish to be a favorite with the girls, generally, attend to their wants, that is, give them rides, candy and raisins ; talk and laugh about love afiaire •, and keep on the off side, that is, don’t commit yourself to any one in pat tieular. and you will be lionized to your heart's content till you become an old bachelor.— The mote flippant and nonscncical a young man is in the company of the girls,'the better will bo succeed. , They prefer fools to wise men, , Ail hail 1 thou season of'-the sear and yellow lent : f^?rn -p --- *• ;J;{. v , NO, 31 i